Far TMI

I had an eclectic mix of friends in high school, given how few friends I had and the fact that I could make a definite pattern from it. Almost all of the boys I befriended were gay (And I befriended them even before I discovered their orientation), all of the girls were straight (unless they were simply closeted), and the few male straight friends were generally SOs with one of my straight female friends. I did, I think as I look back, have crushes on most, if not all, of my gay male friends. I call them crushes because there was absolutely nothing sexual in the attraction; I just desperately wanted to be their friend.

In college, one of the first things I did was join GALA (Gay And Lesbian Alliance, later renamed to B-GALA to include Bisexuals). It was there where I began really trying to figure out what was up. One thing which stuck out was a line repeated by many of my new friends as they relayed their coming out stories: "I was so relieved when I realized there was a name for what I was feeling". Very very slowly I came to realize that there was no name for what I was feeling -- an absolute lack of sexual attraction to anyone, female or male.

Most of the B-GALA people were very supportive and understanding. Sure, my coming out was nothing as hard as theirs; I only had to worry about being fag-bashed (And I was) due to my association with the club, not because I appeared in public with an SO of the same sex. There were a few who were convinced I was lesbian but too subconsciously-ingrained homophobic (There was no question as to my conscious feelings) to admit it to myself. The most neutral feeling I got from the straight people in my life was "It's just a phase". They probably feel vindicated that I married a guy. They are wrong. Most of the reactions I got from straight family/friends, though, was a lot like my bi/gay/les friends got when they came out; hostility and suspicion.

For a while I called myself "asexual", however after a while the amoeba-fission reproduction jokes got to be too much. As with a lot of stories in customers_suck, most jokes are only funny the first time or two you hear them, and sometimes not even then. I finally settled for an uncomfortable "non-sexual", which is what I called myself for several years.

And now for a complete side-track. A long time ago I followed the web advice columns of several gay males. One was, I believe, called "Ask a Gay Guy" and was mostly fashion and etiquette, with a lot of tongue-in-cheek humor and occasional a serious non-etiquette/fashion question. Another was an advice column run by a gay minister of a major Christian denomination, one of those which allowed gay ministers at the time. One of the two received a question as follows: A straight woman had a gay friend who had proposed marriage to her. Knowing his orientation and feeling he couldn't be happy with her, she said "No". After a few dating disasters on the woman's part the friend again proposed, and she was wondering what she should do. The answer has stuck with me ever since, and was, paraphrased "If someone loves you strongly enough that it transcends sexual orientation, by all means marry him. That kind of love is the strongest kind."

At the wedding I attended the other day, I was talking to a friend who had been severely homophobic before meeting one of the brides -- in the wedding the former homophobe was a bridesmaid. She was mentioning a lesbian friend of hers who had fallen in love with and married a straight man. The FOAF referred to herself as "<Husband's-name>-sexual". This really popped out for me because since marrying Andy I have referred to myself as "Andy-sexual". I firmly believe I am not het, because I am still not sexually attracted to anyone else, even eye candy like Peter Jackson's Legolas or absolutely gorgeous women like the brides at Saturday's wedding. Sure, I think a lot of people are handsome/pretty (And, to be fair, my perception of physical beauty is very different than most; I almost feel as if I can sense inner beauty and transpose that onto their physical features. Or something. But since I'm digressing within a digression, I'll let this one go for a while), but there's just no spark.

What I believe, while borderline sappy/trite and perhaps even (shudder) romantic, is something along the lines of "Love overcomes". Not lust, not attraction, but something much stronger. It allows me to be sexually attracted to Andy (And despite my journal's repeated G-rating by a certain meme, I do find him to be exceedingly handsome and very sexy) even while steadfastly not interested in any of the other females and males in my life. It's what makes the two homosexuals in the earlier examples sexually satisfied while married to people of the opposite sex. I firmly believe sexuality can not get in the way of actual, real love. And perhaps this is why I'm so vehement about my feelings on same-sex/polyamorous relationships -- because I believe that if a person finds another (or several "anothers") who share(s) that kind of love, nothing should get in the way.